


Coffee, lollipops, and everything untold between the lines

by AliaMael



Category: Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:29:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29846382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliaMael/pseuds/AliaMael
Summary: The Long Game leaves Kariya with alotof unanswered questions. Unfortunately, he can't exactly investigate everything he'd like to.Nothing's stopping him from checking on that mysterious café owner, though.
Relationships: Hanekoma Sanae & Kariya Koki
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Coffee, lollipops, and everything untold between the lines

**Author's Note:**

> It's still the 4th here, so happy birthday Hanekoma! I gave you a friend =3

Kariya woke up feeling disoriented as hell. He was in his bed, everything looked normal… but there was _something_ lurking in the back of his mind that made him slightly dizzy. On one hand, he felt like he shouldn't go poking around about it, but on the other hand it was like trying to ignore a newly made hole between two teeth: you could only come back to it again and again.

He sat up and tried to _think_. The last weeks had been hectic, sure, but… but…

He realized he was drawing a blank. He remembered telling Uzuki that Shibuya was breaking down and then… then it was not that there was _nothing_ , but something insisted that it was _not important_.

Only his deeply entrenched curiosity associated with his numerous years in the UG allowed him to shake off what he could now recognize as an Imprint. Someone up there –and it could really only be the Conductor or the Composer, because they were the only ones with that level of both power and fine control– didn't want him to remember nor ask questions. He was just barely able to recognize that fact and cling to it, but there was no way he could unlock his memories or even investigate.

He would just have to live with the knowledge that something bigger than him had happened and go on.

What he _could_ do however was check on Uzuki. A quick call later, he was sure she had the same Imprint, except she didn't yet have enough power to be conscious of it.

It was _really_ bigger than him.

There was no Game running this week so he had no work obligation, and he spent his day trying to get news about literally everyone. The fact that Konishi was nowhere to be found didn't seem especially out of place given that the two previous GM had been Erased by Players. 777's absence was making him more uneasy, even if he could now remember the kids saying something about a Reaper being Erased by Konishi and that was probably who they meant.

Even the beginning of the last week, which he _did_ technically remember, was kinda blurry. It was frustrating to have memories elude him until he stumbled upon a trigger.

He hoped it would get better with time.

Then he woke up the next day thinking of the guy who had stopped Uzuki from toying with Phones three weeks ago. He was not sure who he was, but could take an educated guess. He had not been a Player, unlike what Uzuki has thought. (Kariya had not corrected her.) The man was not in the hierarchy the field Reapers were briefed about, but he was obviously part of the whole UG system nonetheless.

Kariya had not checked on him yet.

He had been curious about him, of course. A good mystery was really the only thing he couldn't ignore. So he was reasonably certain he knew where to find the guy. Maybe now would be a good time to pay him a visit. He would usually be more subtle about it, observe for a longer time, make plans before acting… but that itch on the back of his mind that was the damn Imprint was a stark reminder of the fact he couldn't know if the man had been affected by _whatever_ he couldn't think about.

Now he wouldn't be able to focus on anything else before settling that doubt.

And so Kariya found himself in Cat Street, scanning the buildings lining the street in search for what he thought was the correct one.

He almost missed it.

His eyes wanted to slip over it, uninterested, but once again Kariya was able to feel the Imprint most people would have obeyed without even knowing it was there. If that was not the proof he had needed that his man was indeed part of the UG, he didn't know what could count.

He glanced up at the name of the shop –café. WildKat, uh? If there was no feline in the building he would be disappointed.

He pushed the door open, realizing only halfway that it was probably unlocked only because of the presence of the Imprint to turn away undesirables, and entered. And sure, here was his man… in the middle of a damn _wreckage_. Kariya blinked, unbalanced. He had not expected such a mess. _Everything_ was broken, torn…

The man looked up from where he was kneeling in the plaster dust and for half a second he didn't seem to know what to do of Kariya's presence. Then a bashful grin took over his lips.

“Sorry boss but we're not exactly open right now… guess you can see why.”  
“No joke,” Kariya answered on auto-pilot before shaking himself. “Are you alright?”

… that was blunter than what he _wanted_ to say, but well, now it would have to do.

The man hesitated.

“I was not there when _this_ happened,” he finally said. “I'm fine.”

Kariya took in the way white dust was coating his clothes and his hair, the bruise visible on his arm and the small cut on his basically naked foot (seriously, who would try to trek through this chaos in _sandals_?).

“Uh. Sure,” he commented, not bothering to hide how unconvinced he was.  
“Alright,” the man amended, “as fine as possible when my shop is entirely destroyed and I have to clean all the mess. Better?”  
“More realistic,” Kariya couldn't help but smile.

There was a silence. The man stood, uselessly trying to dust off his pants and grimacing when his hands only added more plaster on the cloth.

“I can recommend you another coffee shop,” he offered, “cause I don't think I'll be able to reopen soon.”  
“You really going to ignore the fact I got in through your Imprint?” Kariya asked, genuinely curious.  
“… was ready to, yeah.”

At least he was not trying to pretend he didn't know what Kariya was talking about.

The man looked around, then sighed.

“I guess you have questions. I would offer you a seat but...”

He vaguely gestured at the remnants of the chairs that were haphazardly piled up against a wall.

“Are you even going to _answer_?” Kariya asked.

The man grinned.

“Probably not. But I suppose that depends on what exactly you ask.”  
"Well, I'll start with 'what's your name?', then."

The man laughed.

"That's fair! I'm Sanae Hanekoma."

He looked at Kariya, then very pointedly didn't ask back, amusement dancing in his eyes. _I know you know I know._

Oh, this was going to be fun.

"Need help with the cleaning?" Kariya asked next, just to see if he could surprise Hanekoma.

He was rewarded with an incredulous look.

"Koki Kariya, asking for more work? Who the hell Imprinted you?"

Well, if that wasn't the big question.

"Yes, who?" Kariya threw back.

Hanekoma froze, all playfulness disappearing.

"Megumi got Erased," he finally said, in an apparent non sequitur that was nevertheless answer enough.

The Composer, then. This mess was _definitely_ well above Kariya's pay grade.

He opened his mouth to try to ask for more information, but realized he didn't _want_ to know. He was conscious his sudden disinterest was only the push of the Imprint, but he couldn't shake it off, and the contradiction was… dizzying.

Hanekoma grabbed his arm, steadying him.

“Don't think too hard on it,” he advised, a hint of worry creeping in his tone.  
“Well, it's not like I _can_ , anyway,” Kariya pointed out.

Hanekoma cocked his head, unconvinced, but cautiously released him.

“Hmm. Try not to pass out, 'kay?”

Kariya forced himself to breathe, slowly, then nodded.

“I wouldn't want to create an even bigger mess on your floor,” Kariya said with a weak smile.

Hanekoma glanced down.

“Well, given the state of the floor, you'd probably cut yourself to shreds and bleed out. Doesn't seem nice. Not for you, and not for me to clean up.”  
“What happened here anyway?”  
“A customer really disliked the service,” Hanekoma said, deadpan.

Kariya looked around. It looked more like something had exploded in the room but then, given that Hanekoma was involved in UG stuff, it was not necessarily incompatible. (Of course there was more to it. Hanekoma had already admitted he had been absent when whatever this was had happened, for starters. But Kariya was willing to let it slip for now.)

“Why aren't you using psychs to clean up the mess?” Kariya asked.

It was almost imperceptible, gone as fast as it appeared, but Hanekoma flinched before settling into a perfectly crafted amused look.

“What makes you think I can use psychs?” he countered.  
“Well,” Kariya shrugged, “firstly, you'd be the first person I'd heard of able to Imprint without having any skill with psychs. Secondly, your reaction right now.”

Hanekoma's expression closed off and for a few seconds Kariya wondered how powerful the man actually was, and if it really was such a good idea to try and corner him. Then the mask came back, even if Hanekoma's smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

“I can't use psychs,” he said.

Then he turned his back to Kariya and knelt back to where he had been gathering the broken fragments of a shelve into a large plastic bag.

Kariya stared. _I can't use psychs_ , uh? Sounded like something was missing at the end of the sentence. A “right now” for example. And, well, he couldn't blame the man for being uncomfortable with the topic if he was somehow cut off from his power, especially in a moment when it could have been so very useful.

Kariya carefully crossed the room to lean against the counter, which was the best he could do to make himself comfortable in this wreck of a café. He could see Hanekoma glance up at him but neither of them commented. For a while, he just watched Hanekoma work, pondering his next question.

“How come I didn't meet you earlier?” he finally settled on.  
“We had no reason to meet,” Hanekoma answered.

That could have been a deflection, but Kariya couldn't help but think Hanekoma was deliberately telling him the very literal truth. The man could have lied, hidden or denied several things since Kariya had entered the café, but instead he had acknowledged, albeit indirectly, that he knew about the Imprint keeping the last week untouchable in Kariya's mind, and that was without getting into the fact that he knew more about Kariya than just his face and name.

For all that he was avoiding straight answers, Hanekoma was still throwing information at Kariya. Either he was finding this game of half-truths and deductions as stimulating as Kariya, or he was under orders to keep quiet and was cleverly working on circumventing it.

Or maybe both, Kariya wondered, cocking his head without stopping his staring.

So, no reason to meet. Hanekoma had intervened when Uzuki had been breaking the rules of the Game and while it was not the first time –nor the last– she'd been toying with unauthorized notions, Kariya was usually there to bring her back under control. Kariya himself played by the book, if only to avoid the mess of having to go through a punishment on top of the regular work. The other Reapers… 

Well, they'd been well-trained, Kariya had to admit. He tried to remember if he had heard rumors about someone stepping in to stop Reapers from being stupid before Kitaniji made it to Conductor, but it had been decades and, anyway, chances were that if it had happened the concerned Reapers had kept quiet. It was not exactly the kind of thing you bragged about.

“Kitaniji knew about you?” Kariya asked.

Hanekoma visibly tensed, then swore. The broken plank he had been holding clattered against the floor and he cradled his left hand against his chest, but not before Kariya could see red staining it.

There was a silence. Neither of them moved.

“You should get this cleaned,” Kariya gently suggested.

Hanekoma let out a brief and bitter laugh.

“It's not like I have anything for that here,” he said, before adding, dismissing: “it's nothing.”

Kariya frowned, then left the counter behind him to crouch next to Hanekoma, who looked at him without trying to hide his confusion.

“Gimme your hand.”

Hanekoma hesitated. Kariya stared, waited. Eventually Hanekoma obeyed and Kariya took his hand in his. The cut that started on his index to reach the middle of his palm didn't seem deep, but in closing his fist around it Hanekoma had still managed to paint his hand in blood.

“You probably don't want to get dust in that,” Kariya observed.

And before Hanekoma could react, he sent a pulse of healing energy to the small wound, closing it neatly. Hanekoma took a shaky breath.

“There,” Kariya said. “Alright?”

Hanekoma nodded. Kariya released his hand; Hanekoma started a movement to keep the contact between them but stopped himself and glanced at Kariya before gluing his eyes to his knees, looking uncomfortable.

“Megumi never knew,” he said, barely audible.

Once again, there was so much more than a direct answer in his words. Twice he had mentioned the –late– Conductor, and twice he had used his first name despite Kitaniji not even knowing he existed. Kariya was ready to bet that kind of familiarity would not have been given to any Reaper. Hanekoma had _liked_ Kitaniji. He was grieving and he probably didn't have anyone who'd understand.

He possibly didn't have anyone, period. That was what Kariya read between his aborted gesture and his so short answer.

And even if it was different, because Kariya had Uzuki, and even outside of her he was on more or less friendly terms with other Reapers… well, he couldn't help but feel like he understood Hanekoma. After all, he knew what it was to see a lot while staying carefully on the sidelines, and to know much more than people around him assumed.

So Kariya gently touched two fingers to Hanekoma's arm, next to his bruise, and healed it too. Hanekoma froze, but when it became obvious that Kariya would not be the one to cut the contact this time he leaned into the touch, relaxing a bit.

Definitely in dire need of a friendly presence.

And damn, Kariya would probably regret this, because it was obvious that Hanekoma was _way_ above him in the Game's hierarchy if even the Conductor was unaware of what he was doing, and Kariya had made a _lifestyle_ out of staying away from the top of the pyramid… but he couldn't just walk out of the café and forget.

Also, talking with Hanekoma was _fun_ in a way almost nothing was. It was not often that Kariya could stop hiding behind his reputation of laziness to _seriously_ prod at someone's secrets… and even more rare that the concerned person answered so playfully.

Well. It couldn't be helped.

“Get up?” he asked Hanekoma.

Hanekoma threw him a perplexed look but obeyed. Kariya used that opportunity to reach for his foot and heal that cut too, then he stood to face him.

“Go get a shower,” he suggested, “or grab food, I don't know. I'll psychs the mess into the bags, should be way faster than doing it by hand.”

Hanekoma stared at him, visibly unbalanced. A tentative smile appeared on his lips.

“Koki Kariya volunteering for extra work… I thought we had left the weirdest period ever for Shibuya behind us, but apparently I was wrong.”

Kariya grinned, unrepentant.

“Can't have you think you know everything, can we?”

Hanekoma smiled wider at that, some genuine amusement entering his eyes.

“That would be terrible,” he admitted in an over-dramatic tone.  
“Now, shoo,” Kariya said, miming the gesture to push him out of the room.  
“Giving me orders in my own café?”  
“Absolutely.”

Hanekoma laughed, but he walked to the stairs without protesting. Not that Kariya could really do anything to vandalize the room, anyway, so it was objectively safe to leave him alone. Still, it didn't look like a calculated move, and for that Kariya was more motivated to help him.

Using psychs was indeed so much easier.

When Hanekoma came back, no longer looking like a bad impersonation of a snowman, Kariya was corralling the last of the dust in a corner of the room, frowning in concentration. (Using psychs was easier, but small particles were still more complex to herd than big pieces of trash.) Hanekoma stayed on the last step, watching in silence.

“Thank you,” he said when Kariya finally placed his cloud of plaster in the last bag. “I… this would have taken me days,” he admitted.  
“Days, and how many cuts and bruises?” Kariya teased.  
“Where do you see any cut or bruise?” Hanekoma innocently asked, turning his arms to showcase his unblemished skin.

It was Kariya's turn to laugh.

“So, ramen?” he casually asked, and delighted in Hanekoma dumbstruck look.  
“I… what?”  
“Ramen. It's food,” Kariya explained with a grin before taking a reproving expression, staring pointedly at Hanekoma's too thin wrists. “You know what food is, right?”  
“Of course I do! I– I just...”  
“Just?”

Hanekoma visibly looked for words, then shook his head with a smile.

“Alright, ramen it is,” he conceded.

He followed Kariya outside, not bothering to lock the door. Before the silence could grow awkward, Kariya asked:

“You already know how you want to refurbish the café?”

Hanekoma looked at him for a few seconds, but whatever he saw seemed to satisfy him. He put his hands in his pockets and began to talk interior design.

It was surprisingly comfortable.

To Kariya's amusement, the topic seemed to passionate Hanekoma enough to make him forget all about eating, and Kariya pretended to try stealing his ramen several times to remind him of its existence. After his third tentative, Hanekoma retaliated by snatching a bit of carrot from Kariya's bowl.

“Fast,” Kariya commented, appreciative.  
“Years of training,” Hanekoma said.  
“When you reopen, I want to see you serving coffee with chopsticks.”

Hanekoma cocked his head.

“Hmm, could be fun...”  
“ _Please_ do not try this with scalding hot coffee first.”  
“You don't believe in me? I'm hurt!” Hanekoma grinned.

The rest of the meal devolved into a chopsticks battle, making it difficult to eat, but Kariya had to admit that it was fun… and that Hanekoma clearly needed this.

When they found themselves outside once more, Hanekoma hesitated.

“Thank you,” he said, suddenly more serious, and maybe hesitant. “For helping me back at WildKat, and for dragging me here and making sure I ate something.”  
“No problem. Now I wanna see all the decoration you told me about.”

Hanekoma seemed genuinely surprised.

“You… you mean it? You want to come back to WildKat?”

Kariya shrugged.

“Why not?”

He got a lollipop out of his pocket and pointed it at Hanekoma.

“You got me curious, and I still have answers I need to wrestle out of you, right?”  
“Yeah. Right. Of course.”

Shit. He was taking this the wrong way.

“Hanekoma, I'm kidding. I just enjoyed our discussions, that's all.”

Hanekoma still seemed doubtful, and Kariya cursed himself for his blunder.

“I have work to do,” Hanekoma finally said.  
“Good luck with that.”

Hanekoma turned to leave, no trace of easy humor left.

“See ya!” Kariya threw at his retreating back.  
“… sure.”

Kariya sighed. He had fucked up big time, but he hadn't anticipated Hanekoma being so… prompt to believe his company couldn't be enjoyed for its own sake. He should probably have, given how lonely the man seemed to be, but he was way too used to the easy banter with Uzuki and it had slipped out naturally.

Now he'd have to prove himself trustworthy. Which started with actually going back to WildKat soon.

When Kariya arrived at WildKat the next day, Hanekoma was staring at the wall which was once again whole and smooth. He didn't even look toward the door when Kariya entered the café. After a while, Kariya decided to break the silence.

“You know, I'm pretty sure the plaster's not gonna dry faster just 'cause you're looking at it.”

At that, Hanekoma finally shook himself and gave a small grin to Kariya.

“Hey, who knows?” he said.

Kariya could only smile, relieved to see that Hanekoma was not stuck in the dark mood that had seemed to drown him the previous day.

“Also pretty sure you can't Imprint it,” he added.  
“Depends on how exactly you define 'Imprint',” Hanekoma shrugged.

Kariya blinked, confused.

“Well,” Hanekoma elaborated, “you _can_ stick an Imprint to a physical support so that it affects people who interact with it afterward, so in that sense it's totally possible to Imprint plaster.”

Something Kariya had noticed and then forgotten after years of being exposed to it resurfaced.

“You're CAT,” he said.

Hanekoma's eyebrows rose in surprise.

“Interesting jump in logic,” he commented.

Kariya rolled his eyes.

“Please. You can't be that many running around Shibuya sticking Imprints to walls.”  
“Or can we?” Hanekoma countered with an innocent smile that didn't fool Kariya for one second.

But alright, plausible deniability, he could understand that. CAT had spent years hiding their identity, they would not reveal themselves so easily.

Actually, it explained several things. Notably why the Player pin… and the… O-pin? What was… The memory was slippery, but anyway, it was Gatito designs in both cases. Kariya was now tempted to hazard the guess that Hanekoma's role in the UG was to create tools at the Composer's demand.

If the Composer was the only one knowing of Hanekoma's role in the UG _and_ of his identity as CAT, it was no wonder the man was so isolated. It couldn't be easy to befriend people while keeping everything that made one's life hidden.

(Once again, Kariya could lowkey relate. He had his own share of secrets, but at least it was not about what he spent his days doing. But just pretending to be unaware of the details of the last decades of Games when he could see connections everywhere sometimes left him feeling out of place among his fellow Reapers, so he could only imagine how much worse it was for Hanekoma.)

“So, are you planning to Imprint your own walls?” Kariya asked.

Hanekoma seemed to genuinely consider the idea.

“Not for now,” he settled on.  
“Care to give me pointers about how to do it? I'm curious to try it, and we can as well increase the number of lunatics Imprinting walls out there while we're at it.”

Hanekoma stared at him like he wanted to read his mind. Kariya fidgeted, uncomfortable but refusing to break eye contact. Maybe Hanekoma _was_ scanning him, for all he knew.

“I trust you not to abuse it,” Hanekoma eventually said, with a serious that made Kariya realize how badly his thoughtless question could be interpreted.

But before Kariya could react, Hanekoma grinned impishly.

“I _also_ trust you to figure it out by yourself,” he added.  
“… damn. Well, challenge accepted, but if I make a mess I'll come fetch you to help me fix it”, Kariya promised.

Hanekoma's smile turned gentle.

“That's reasonable,” he said.

Kariya marginally relaxed. At least this time he had managed to get one answer right.

 _Of course_ leaving Imprints all over Shibuya was potentially dangerous in the hands of someone with bad intentions or simply careless. It was no wonder Hanekoma had seemed so close of trying to dissuade him. But somehow, miraculously, Hanekoma had judged him reasonable enough.

(Or maybe not _that_ miraculously. After all, Hanekoma had basically admitted to spying on him already, so he knew how Kariya usually acted. Kariya still wondered how much Hanekoma had guessed exactly.)

“Thanks”, Kariya said, trusting Hanekoma to get his layers of meaning.

Hanekoma shrugged and looked away.

“I don't have anything to entertain you right now,” he said, “unless you wanna stare at the plaster with me.”

Kariya hesitated, then decided the floor was not a hazard anymore and sat down. Hanekoma blinked at him, surprised.

“Lollipop?” Kariya offered, fishing two out of his pockets.

Hanekoma gingerly took one and joined him on the floor.

“So, made a decision for the color scheme of the room?” Kariya asked.  
“Why are you… interested?”  
“Well, honestly? I'm not that interested, but when you talk about it you _make_ it interesting.”

Hanekoma stared in silence. Kariya casually unwrapped his lollipop and put it in his mouth. After a while, Hanekoma slowly imitated him.

“Despite how tempted I am to change everything,” Hanekoma finally said, “I think I'll just try to aim for the same decoration as before. There's comfort in familiarity, I suppose.”

Kariya stopped himself from asking if he had lots of regulars. That was too close to asking if Hanekoma was the one in need of comfort, and he didn't think he'd appreciate that kind of personal question.

“It would be nice to have _something_ not destroyed by this mess...” Hanekoma added, low enough that Kariya was not sure if he intended to be heard.

It was true that all the Officers had been Erased, without exception. So far Kariya had not heard any rumor of promotion, but the next weeks would clearly be chaotic before the situation stabilized.

“… Uzuki is going to be insufferable if she's not promoted, now,” Kariya realized.  
“What, you mean worse than usual?” Hanekoma teased.  
“Fair. But frankly, I think that yeah, she's gonna get worse. There's a void to fill, and she has ambition. Also… I think she's matured a bit. Maybe thanks to you. Her reasoning for wanting to climb the ladder… I get it.”  
“I doubt my intervention left a lasting impression on her.”  
“You'd be surprised then.”

Hanekoma threw him a seriously unconvinced look.

“She's still cross with me, right?”  
“Actually, no,” Kariya said. “She blames the management for making the Game unfulfilling for Reapers. She wants to make it better, so that no one has _reasons_ to entertain what she tried.”  
“I suppose I underestimated her, then.”

Kariya smiled.

“Can't blame you. She has a lot of potential, but she still has a long way to go.”  
“And what do you plan to do?”  
“Uh?”  
“Well”, Hanekoma elaborated, “she's gonna want you to get promoted alongside her, right?”  
“… I hate that you're right.”

Hanekoma laughed. It fitted him, way more than the tense hesitation and carefully constructed distance he had shown Kariya not that long ago.

When Kariya sighed, it was in an obvious over-dramatic way. Hanekoma sniggered.

“Guess I'll have to slack off even more so no one would consider me worthy of a promotion,” Kariya said.  
“Liar,” Hanekoma grinned. “You just pretend to slack off, but you're always doing your job correctly.”  
“Calumny!” Kariya protested, faking outrage. “Uzuki works enough for two, that's all!”  
“Oh, of course, what was I thinking?” Hanekoma deadpanned.

Their eyes met, and they both devolved into undignified giggling.

“More seriously,” Kariya went on when they calmed down, “I'll explain to her and I hope that this time she'll understand. It would do her good to realize I genuinely love where I am and I'm not staying there only for her sake.”  
“You still do it partly for her, though,” Hanekoma half-asked, half-affirmed.

Kariya smirked.

“Why do you think I bother with having a good track record? That way no one can tell me to change my methods and we can keep working in tandem.”  
“She's going to destroy you if you become _worse_ as soon as she's not with you anymore.”  
“Yeah,” Kariya nodded, “that or feel guilty over it. I know she doesn't look the part, but she tends to blame herself a lot. Mostly for things she has no control over.”  
“You know her well, hm?”

Hanekoma sounded a bit wistful. Kariya tried to find a way to steer the discussion toward more cheerful grounds.

“If I need to hide from her wrath, can I come here?” he tried.

Once more, Hanekoma looked thrown for a loop.

“You… why would you want to hide here?”  
“The company is great, and I love watching plaster dry,” Kariya answered with as innocent a smile he could muster.

Hanekoma rolled his eyes.

“I do hope I'm more interesting than plaster.”  
“You are,” Kariya said earnestly.

Hanekoma froze, visibly surprised by the blunt honesty. He looked down, fidgeting with the stick of his lollipop.

“Of course you're welcomed here,” he finally said, tone unsure and at odds with his words.  
“I don't want to impose,” Kariya gently added.  
“You're not,” Hanekoma answered just a tiny bit too fast.

Kariya didn't know if Hanekoma wanted him to leave but didn't dare voice it, or if on the contrary he wanted him to keep coming but was uncomfortable saying it clearly. Maybe a bit of both. And Kariya couldn't blame him for being wary. He obviously had secrets, and was unused to having people around.

Kariya still thought that ultimately Hanekoma could use a friendly presence.

“If you ever want me to leave, you just have to say the word,” Kariya said, just to be sure.

Hanekoma stayed silent, which was admission enough.

“OK. So… most stupid thing you ever saw a Reaper do?” Kariya asked.

Hanekoma stared.

“Do you ever follow a logical thread when you chat with someone?” he asked.  
“I do,” Kariya smiled.

Hanekoma didn't look quite convinced, but he cocked his head, thinking.

“Probably that dude who tuned down to the RG, then promptly forgot he was not in the UG anymore and walked straight into someone,” he finally answered.

Kariya couldn't help an incredulous laugh.

“No way?!”  
“Oh, believe me, his two friends never let him forget that moment of utter dignity.”  
“No joke, that's… actually impressive in a very unimpressive way.”

Hanekoma grinned. Kariya was glad he didn't have to hide his smile at seeing him relax, given that he was _already_ smiling wide.

“I had a newbie try to use Reaper Creeper to know if she should lie about having slept through a briefing,” Kariya offered.  
“Oh, now I need to know how that went.”  
“Well, I waited for a while to see if she'd realize it was not going to work, but when she didn't get the hint I asked her who she thought would answer. She said 'a Reaper', stared at me for two or three seconds, and then I legit saw the understanding appear in her eyes. She felt so bad she threw her sheet and coin at me and ran.”

Hanekoma started to laugh.

“She did apologize when she saw me at the next meeting, but after that she avoided me desperately,” Kariya concluded.

They traded anecdotes for a while, then Kariya dragged Hanekoma out to get something to eat. He was starting to wonder if the man ever remembered that food was useful. When they came back, the plaster had finally dried and Hanekoma produced a paint roller and a step ladder. Kariya watched, amused, as Hanekoma quickly got so focused on his task that he didn't seem to remember he was not alone in the room.

Kariya was about to leave when someone knocked on the door. Hanekoma jumped and almost fell –though he did manage to get paint on his arm.

Five minutes later Kariya was painting the wall while Hanekoma directed the delivery of the new furniture. Kariya was not quite sure how it had happened, but here he was, trying not to make a mess and feeling like the smell of paint was engraving itself into his nostrils for at last a few weeks.

He had volunteered, hadn't he? What was wrong with him?

When he finally left, he hurried to shower to try and get rid of the paint's smell before meeting with Uzuki as they had planned. He had no clue what he could answer to the questions she would have obviously asked if she had any inkling of him doing decoration work.

(Fortunately, the shower was enough and she didn't notice.)

He went back to WildKat two days later. The café was not opened but as usual he could enter anyway. It looked way better, almost ready to welcome customers. 

Hanekoma looked up from where he was fiddling with the wires of a coffee machine. He blinked, visibly surprised.

“Something's wrong?” he asked.  
“Uh, no. Why?” Kariya answered, confused.  
“Dunno, I… thought you wouldn't come back, that's all.”

Wow. One day without a visit and he was already so sure Kariya didn't give a damn anymore. In other circumstances, Kariya would have qualified that of overly clingy, but it read way more as self-deprecation.

Who would have thought that the acclaimed, genius CAT thought himself so forgettable?

“Sorry, work came up yesterday...” Kariya explained.  
“Work?” Hanekoma asked. “Has there been an announcement about promotions?”

Kariya sighed.

“If only...”

Hanekoma waited for him to elaborate.

“Care if I sit?” Kariya asked, pointing the closest bar stool.  
“Go ahead.”  
“Thanks. And so, no, no promotion for now… No Conductor, no Officers, nothing. But we got convoked to a… well, a not-meeting I'd say, because there was no one to actually _lead_ it, but we had a written briefing about how the next Game is going to run.”  
“… with no hierarchy?” Hanekoma asked, coffee machine forgotten.  
“Apparently.”  
“That's...”

Hanekoma trailed off. He looked down, a resigned sadness overtaking his expression.

“I suppose it makes sense, in a way,” he said in a low voice. “That doesn't make it more practical.”

Kariya hesitated, but couldn't resist his curiosity.

“What do you mean?” he pushed.  
“It's not easy to replace people you're still grieving.”

That… made the whole situation more understandable. Kariya had not even thought that the Composer had been caring enough to be deeply affected by–

He bit down a curse at the sudden spike of pain. He was not even actively trying to remember these missing days, dammit! He massaged his temple, hoping to get rid of the headache, firmly reminding himself that it was no use getting mad at the responsible for this Imprint.

“You OK?” Hanekoma asked.  
“Yeah, just… Was thinking of the last week, got a headache. This sucks.”

To Kariya's surprise, Hanekoma came closer to touch two fingers to his forehead. His skin was a tiny bit too cold and Kariya distractedly thought of giving him gloves, then he felt the pain recede.

“Better?” Hanekoma asked, dropping his hand.

Kariya nodded slowly.

“Yeah. Thanks.”  
“No problem. Just try to avoid thinking too much, right?”  
“I was not even prodding at the missing info!” Kariya protested halfheartedly. “I was just thinking that I had not realized having the Conductor killed by a Player would affect the Composer that much.”

Hanekoma made a weird face. Kariya frowned.

“What?”  
“Megumi… was not killed by a Player,” Hanekoma admitted without looking at Kariya.

There was a silence.

“What the fuck?!” Kariya exclaimed.  
“I– I shouldn't even talk of that,” Hanekoma backpedaled.  
“You already said too much, you're aware of that, right?”

Hanekoma didn't answer, suddenly fascinated anew by his coffee machine.

At this point, it was not as if it was difficult to make the connections. Kitaniji was Erased, it had not been a Player… and Konishi, as ambitious and coldly efficient as she had been, had _not_ been powerful enough to take Kitaniji down, Kariya was sure of that.

Given how Hanekoma was talking of Kitaniji, it seemed a safe guess to consider he hadn't done it either.

Which left only one possibility, and how messed up was that? And they were _grieving_? What the _hell_ had happened in these few missing days?

No, not going there. Thinking about _that_ would only bring pain, and no more answers.

Not that the one he had deduced right now wasn't painful in a different way.

Oh god. Hanekoma had liked Kitaniji and the only person he was close to was his killer. Kariya felt a bit light-headed. How the hell did Hanekoma manage to not entirely _break down_?

“Are you alright?” Kariya asked, unable to hide his concern.

Hanekoma froze, but didn't pretend he didn't understand.

“I… I'm not sure,” he admitted.

Then he looked at Kariya and threw him the saddest smile Kariya had ever seen.

“And you don't even know half of it,” Hanekoma added softly.

Kariya shivered, suddenly feeling cold down to the bones. For once, he thought he didn't want to know… but maybe it would still be better.

Not for him.

“If you want to talk about it, I'm here,” he offered, not quite knowing if he wanted Hanekoma to take him up on this or not, but needing to make sure it was _clear_.  
“… thanks.”

The silence that followed was heavy, uncomfortable. Kariya desperately fished for any topic to lighten up the mood. Hanekoma beat him to it by turning his attention back to his coffee machine to finally start it. Kariya hid a smile behind his hand at seeing how Hanekoma was glaring at the machine like he dared it to malfunction.

"You're gonna frighten the poor thing if you keep that up," Kariya pointed out.

Hanekoma threw him a dubious look.

"I don't think I trained _frightening appliance_ enough for that."  
"If this coffee ends up too bitter to drink, you can't complain I didn't warn you," Kariya grinned.

Hanekoma blinked.

"There's no such thing as a too bitter coffee," he said as if Kariya had argued the sky was green with pink dots.  
"Oh boy, please tell me you're not only selling black coffee."  
"Of course not! I also have muffins."

Now that Kariya was paying attention, he could indeed see what seemed like a typical pastries display. It was empty for now, but it was ready to be filled.

He wondered when Hanekoma would _feel_ ready to reopen the café, and pointedly buried that question in the back of his mind.

Then Hanekoma put a cup down in front of him.

"Wanna taste test? That's 520 yens," he grinned.  
"I can't believe you want me to pay to play guinea pig."  
"Well, your loss."

Hanekoma picked up the cup and took a sip before frowning.

"I stand corrected, you made the right call. I messed up something in the settings apparently…"

He sighed, and for a second looked exhausted before hiding it back behind a light smile.

"Well, the next Game is starting in what, three days?" he asked Kariya.  
"Uh, yeah?"  
"Should be enough to make this thing _behave_!" he concluded, tone between cheerful and menacing.  
"Wanna be open for the Players?"

Hanekoma looked down.

"That's the least I can do…"

Kariya frowned.

"Not sure we have the same definition, here," he pointed out.  
"Sure, what did you say already? That Yashiro is the one to do your share of work for you?" Hanekoma teased.  
"Yup, I even taught her how to forge my signature," Kariya deadpanned.

Hanekoma chuckled.

As if on cue, Kariya's phone buzzed. He fished it out of his pocket and sighed upon reading the message.

"Work's calling?" Hanekoma asked.  
"Almost. Uzuki is chewing me off for disappearing on her instead of going over the new procedures with her for the _third time_."

There was a weird silence. Kariya looked up to see Hanekoma staring at him.

"What?"  
"Did you really ditch Yashiro to come here?" Hanekoma asked, incredulous.  
"Uh, yeah? Well, I mean, I didn't _ditch_ her, technically, we never agreed on a time to begin with, she's just angry that I don't rank work as my first priority, as usual. And we don't even need to reread the whole mess, it was clear enough the second time…"  
"… are you actually using my café to hide from her wrath like you said you would?"  
"Well, I guess _now_ I am. It was not the plan to begin with, but a guy's gotta be adaptable to survive the UG."

Hanekoma's expression hesitated before settling on "amused".

"Should I be afraid she's gonna hunt you down here?"  
"Nah, she doesn't know where I am. I think."  
"So reassuring."

Kariya went to put his phone back in his pocket, then changed his mind at the last second.

"Hey, how about you give me your number? That way I can keep you updated about the weird ideas of the big boss."

 _And tell you when I cannot come_ Kariya didn't say but thought very loudly. Given the stricken look in Hanekoma's eyes, maybe loud enough to actually be heard.

Hanekoma gingerly took the offered phone and added his number. Then the phone started vibrating angrily in his hand and he gave it back, making a show of pretending to get away from a ticking bomb. Which was possibly a far too accurate metaphor to talk about Uzuki, even if it was only through text messages.

"You should maybe answer her before she spontaneously masters teleportation to come throttle you," Hanekoma suggested.  
"You might be onto something," Kariya admitted.

He typed a short message to tell Uzuki he was busy, and didn't even have the time to put his phone away before she answered back with questions. He glared at the screen. Hanekoma laughed.

"I wouldn't blame you for leaving, you know," he said.  
"She can survive without me," Kariya grumbled.  
"You know it, but does she?" Hanekoma countered.

Kariya stared.

"… you're right," he finally said. "For all her posturing, she still needs tons of validation."

He got up, resigned to temporarily abandoning one friend for another.

"I'll message you," he promised.  
"You'd better!"

Kariya barely kept himself from flinching at Hanekoma's tone. On the surface, it was pitch-perfect friendly banter, but there was an undercurrent of disbelief he didn't like one bit.

He'd need to juggle reassuring Uzuki and, well, reassuring Hanekoma. 

Maybe he had something for people who hid deep insecurities.

He did message Hanekoma, though, and even managed to sneak a visit to his café the day before the Game. Hanekoma never messaged him first, but he welcomed him without any visible tension when he came back, so Kariya still counted it as a win. It felt a bit like trying to befriend a…

A feral CAT. The name was so damn accurate.

Kariya still refused to drink Hanekoma's blacker than black coffee. On the other hand, he was unable to prove it but he was ready to bet quite a lot on the fact that WildKat had not always sold _lollipops_. (Of course, he knew not to bring it up. It was still _nice_.)

With the Game running, Kariya had less time to himself, but keeping Hanekoma updated on the mess created by the Reapers being all confused by the lack of Officers was entertaining. Uzuki's rage-fueled rants were more on the worrying side, but only because she seemed this close to proclaim herself Officer _de facto_ to organize the whole thing.

By day 4, Uzuki was dead-set on babysitting a bunch of Reapers through the procedure after the Game finished for the day, and Kariya bailed out of the extra hours, which gave him the bonus of being able to check on Hanekoma. 

_Coming over,_ Kariya sent, _want me to grab you something to eat?_  
 _What makes you think I'm unable to feed myself?_ Hanekoma answered.

Kariya just rolled his eyes at his phone, not dignifying that with an explanation. He bought ramen.

As predicted, Hanekoma seemed to discover he was hungry when food was placed in front of him. They discussed the Players, the missions. It was comfortable.

"Is Yashiro OK with you being here?" Hanekoma suddenly asked out of nowhere.

Kariya just raised an eyebrow, encouraging him to elaborate.

"Well, even if she's not _angry_ at me, she must _dislike_ me, given how we met," Hanekoma went on.  
"Well, she doesn't have to know I'm here," Kariya pointed out.

Hanekoma seemed surprised.

"She's your Partner."  
"We're Reapers, not Players."

Hanekoma looked at him as if he had just said something especially stupid. Kariya rolled his eyes.

"OK, she's my Partner," he admitted. "But as much as we stick together during work hours, we don't _live_ together. We hang out a lot, true, but we're not glued at the hips."

Hanekoma slowly nodded and relaxed a bit.

"Don't worry, I'll tell you in advance if she's coming to chew you out," Kariya grinned.

Hanekoma made a face.

"Urg, thank you, but I'd rather avoid it entirely if possible. I already had to refurbish the café once this year, it's enough!"

Kariya opened his mouth to say that she was not _that_ bad, then reconsidered. She wasn't _bad_ , yeah, but she could do explosive.

"... alright, fair," he admitted. "Though she has her hands full for now. I think you're safe."  
"Oh? Taking over the UG?"  
"Pretty much," Kariya nodded. "She's mentoring younger Reapers now. She's either gonna kill a bunch of them in frustration or make a lot of progress toward being actually ready to become Officer."  
"That's good. We'll need Officers soon."  
"You mean soon as in last week."  
"Yeah, that too."

Uzuki didn't murder anyone, and Kariya couldn't help but tease her endlessly about that one Reaper who kinda imprinted on her like a lost duckling. She mocked him back, but was overall less grumpy that she would have been only a few months before.

She was genuinely maturing, and Kariya was both happy and… maybe a bit lost. He could feel the inevitability of the change of dynamics in their relationship, and he was not proud to admit he wasn't quite ready.

Of course, Hanekoma saw right through him and took upon himself to threw him advice about that in-between two dissertations on coffee brewing.

(Kariya was slowly letting himself be convinced that _maybe_ he could try Hanekoma's blackhole of a coffee. If he was allowed to dump half a cup worth of sugar in it.)

The Game had been over for two days when the new routine of bickering with Hanekoma was disturbed by the door opening on another customer.

Kariya and the newcomer stared at each other. The man looked somewhat familiar but Kariya couldn't place him, which was slightly unnerving –and, most of all, woke up his instinct to investigate. The man cocked his head, his expression of curiosity slowly disappearing behind a grin that bordered on predatory.

“How interesting...” he said before walking to the counter and taking a seat.

Kariya glanced at Hanekoma. He was busying himself with his coffee machine but by now Kariya knew him enough to see that he was decidedly uncomfortable. Was it because he hadn't wanted him to meet that man? Because he feared their confrontation? Because it was the first time there was someone else with them when Kariya came to WildKat?

Kariya took another look at the man and was met with eyes sparkling with amusement. He frowned. The man seemed to be borderline mocking him… he _knew_ they had already met, but _when_?

Some part of his brain insisted it was recent, but he was drawing a blank. Maybe during these few missing days during the Long Game? But no, he would probably not recognize him at all if that were the case. Then what?

And suddenly, it clicked.

_Twice._

Kariya could feel his eyes grow wide. The man noticed, of course, and looked positively smug.

Kariya had met him first a few decades ago. No wonder he had not placed him immediately.

He had _also_ seen him much more recently… and much younger. He had not made the link _at all_ at that point, but seeing the adult now, without the years of distance, it was painfully obvious.

Kariya forced a weak smile and held the man's eyes.

“Always wondered if it was you or your Partner,” he said as casually as he could manage.

The Composer laughed.

“My, I'm impressed. I didn't think someone would bother to remember that Game.”

Kariya could only shrug, feeling more helpless than should be allowed in a café.

“She went back to the RG,” the Composer offered without being asked. “She didn't have my… interest in the UG.”  
“I see,” Kariya prudently answered.

Hanekoma put a cup down in front of the Composer, looking between them like he was assessing a threat.

"Relax, Sanae, I'm not going to eat him," the Composer said, rolling his eyes.  
"Well, you're drinking his coffee," Kariya pointed out, "I wouldn't bet on your eating habits."

For one or two seconds he wondered _what in all hells_ had possessed him to say something that… bold, but then the Composer giggled.

"I suppose you needn't fear me," he said with a grin, "but if you badmouth Sanae's coffee like that you might need to fear _him_."  
"I'll have you know that I never killed nor maimed a customer," Hanekoma said.  
"Of course you didn't. Your coffee can do it for you," the Composer countered without missing a beat.

Kariya felt seriously off balance. It was so… casual. A random person walking in the café right now would easily think the three of them close friends. Despite their roles. Despite all the mess of the Long Game hanging above their heads, hidden behind smiles and jokes but never forgotten.

Hanekoma seemed a bit more relaxed though, so Kariya tentatively decided the situation, as weird as it was, was not that bad.

Then of course the Composer decided to be contrarian.

"I wonder if I should make you my new Conductor..." he pondered. "After all you already know me and Sanae…"

Kariya was on his feet, backing off from him before he even registered he was moving.

"Oh no no no, no _fucking_ way! I'm not doing this!"

The Composer _pouted_.

"But I need a new Conductor..." he complained.

Kariya bit his tongue to stop his instinctive answer of "should have thought of this before Erasing your previous one". It _really_ didn't seem a good idea to point it out.

"Josh, leave him be," Hanekoma intervened. "You know that Kariya is _made_ for Harrier."

The Composer didn't look quite convinced, but he turned back to his coffee. Kariya didn't dare sit.

"Still not eating you," the Composer said.  
"Well, excuse me but you threatened me with _promotion_ , that's _worse_ ," Kariya replied.

Hanekoma facepalmed.

"You need to work on your priorities."  
"Ugh, _work_."  
"Don't make me call Yashiro," Hanekoma menaced.  
"… you wouldn't dare," Kariya said.

Hanekoma threw him a look that spelled "oh, you're _sure_ you wanna bet on that?" and alright, Kariya wasn't quite that certain he was safe. He gingerly took back his seat next to the Composer.

"What are you even drinking here if you don't like coffee?" the Composer asked casually.  
"Lollipops," Kariya deadpanned.

Hanekoma groaned.

"Pumpkin soup," he answered for Kariya.

For some reason, the Composer seemed highly amused by that. Kariya decided that for once he didn't want to investigate.

"So, Sanae," the Composer went on after a while, "given that now you apparently can veto my decisions regarding promotions… any suggestion for more _acceptable_ candidates?"

Hanekoma glanced at Kariya, then began to discuss the merits and flaws of basically half the Reapers. Despite the Composer looking at him as if he wanted his input, Kariya firmly stayed out of the conversation. He knew Hanekoma's opinion of the Reapers anyway, and even if it was not surprising it was still making him slightly uneasy to see how utterly _unconvinced_ the Composer seemed by _everyone_.

When Kariya left, they were still talking, Hanekoma vaguely pleading, and the Composer more and more dismissing.

There was a second Game without hierarchy. Then a third.

Uzuki was now part of a small group of Reapers who had basically filled in the void. Kariya was _this_ close to flat out tell the Composer to just give them his official blessing already. Not that he saw the Composer that often, but they still crossed path maybe once every ten days, more or less.

Kariya had finally figured out how to stick an Imprint to a wall, and he thought that maybe Hanekoma was a bit proud. He seemed pleased, at least. He tried to rope Kariya into accompanying him when he went tagging the city at night, and Kariya found himself accepting. It was fascinating to see CAT at work, and that way Kariya could make sure Hanekoma would _rest_ at some point.

(Hanekoma never spoke of it, but somehow Kariya knew he still couldn't use most psychs. He still had his moments of sudden sadness, but they were fewer by the week.)

After the fourth Game without Hierarchy, the Composer _finally_ gave in to the inevitable and promoted the group Kariya had seen doing the actual job for several Games.

At the end of the first full-team meeting, the new Conductor cornered Kariya, Uzuki hovering behind him in concern.

"Alright, that might be too personal a question, so feel free to not answer, but… the Composer very specifically required that I _do not_ consider you for Officer, ever. What the _fuck_ did you do?"

Kariya resisted the urge to facepalm.

"I second that question," Uzuki said.  
"I… I don't even know how to answer that," Kariya admitted.  
"But you _did_ something!" Uzuki insisted.  
"Whatever you're thinking, it's not that."  
" _Explain._ "  
"I insulted his taste in coffee, he offered to make me Conductor, and I tried to run away?"

There was a silence.

"Seriously, man, what the fuck," the Conductor said.  
"In case you didn't realize it yet, your boss is a troll," Kariya shrugged.  
"I can't believe you didn't even tell me you knew the Composer," Uzuki pouted.  
"I wouldn't say that I _know_ him," Kariya objected. "We met, alright, but… It was kinda an accident?"  
"I swear to god that if you're not _way_ more precise than that in your reports I'll personally make your life hell," Uzuki promised.  
"… duly noted."

When Kariya got to WildKat less than an hour later, he was not surprised one bit to see the Composer already there. He looked up from his coffee when Kariya sat next to him and immediately started grinning madly.

"You were listening," Kariya accused.  
"Maybe~" the Composer singsonged.  
"Listening to _what_?" Hanekoma asked.  
"It's _your_ prank, you tell him," Kariya grumbled.

The Composer laughed. Hanekoma looked confused and slightly frightened.

"A _prank_? Oh, Kariya, you wound me!" the Composer said. "I was merely making sure your wishes were respected!"  
"He told the Conductor to never, ever promote me," Kariya told Hanekoma, taking pity on him.  
"Dammit Josh, are you tried to traumatize your new Conductor in less than a week?"  
"Not at all, I'm just making sure he's got what's needed to work with me," the Composer innocently said.  
"Yeah, you're totally trolling everyone," Kariya concluded.  
"… to be fair," Hanekoma pointed out, "being resistant to trolling _is_ needed to work with him."  
"… true."

The Composer just looked smug.

When, a few hours later, Kariya found himself helping Hanekoma close the café for the night, the both of them comfortable around each other, he had to admit that he didn't mind washing cups of coffee anymore.

Even if Kariya still didn't like black coffee... by now it _smelt_ a bit like home.


End file.
